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“Oh, ain’t I?” I tease.
“Not if I got anything to do with it,” he assures me and just hearing him say that again makes me feel relieved.
“What happened to the guy who couldn’t wait to get me on a plane outta here?” I ask, curious to how so much has changed.
“He realized that it’s easier to risk his feelings rather than fight ‘em,” Cole tells me with a serious look on his face.
“Well, I’m a real safe bet,” I promise, kissing his lips and feeling that flutter stir in my stomach when his hand slides into the front of my jeans.
“Tate… Tate!” Finn grabs my shoulder and drags me away from the guy that I’m landing my boot into. “I think he got the message,” he assures me, looking concerned when I spin around and focus all my anger on him instead.
“I’m just followin’ orders. Garrett said to make him suffer,” I remind him of the reason that we’re here.
“I’m sorry. Please…” Greg Parry’s voice trembles as he begs and looks up at us both helplessly.
“Maybe you should have thought about how sorry you’d be before you took out your paintbrush.” I pick the scared little twerp up by his shirt and slam him against the wall.
“How much did Mason pay ya?” I ask. Garrett also wants information, so I guess Finn was right to stop me from taking all my frustration out on this piece of shit.
“I… I can’t…” Blood shoots from his mouth and nose when he chokes and yet he’s still protecting that old scumbag.
“He’s not exactly helpin’ himself out here.” I look at Finn, who shakes his head helplessly before I get stuck back into this son of a bitch.
“Stop. Please… just wait.” It only takes a few more fists to the face for Greg to have a change of heart.
“I didn’t take any money from him.” He holds up his hand and waves it like a white flag.
“Start talkin’.” I can feel my patience slipping away. Ever since this afternoon when I was drivin’ through town and my mind started playin’ tricks on me, I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I could have sworn it was Louisa I saw crossing the road in front of me.
“I wanna marry Rosie Drayner,” Greg blurts out, desperately trying to get some air back into his lungs.
“And what the fuck has that got to do with this?” I snatch the bed sheet that has the wordsLeia Walker is a slutpainted in big red letters from Finn’s hands, knockin’ the wind outta Greg when I shove it into his chest.
“You’re right, Mason told me to put it up,” he admits, looking ashamed of himself.
“It ain’t my personal view on the girl, I went to high school with her. I liked her.”
“So explain yourself.” I fix my fingers around his throat and pin his head back while Finn hisses under his breath at me to relax.
“I want to marry Rosie Drayner,” he repeats. “And there's not a chance in hell her daddy is gonna let that happen if he finds out that I was one of the kids that set fire to the chapel ten years ago.”
“You set fire to a chapel?” I gotta admit to being a little taken back by his admission. I may not have lived in this town at the time it happened, but I know what a big deal it was to everyone. The town still talk about it to this day.
None of what he’s saying makes sense though, Greg Parry is an accountant, not an arsonist. He wears a suit, even at weekends, and sits next to his mom in that chapel every fuckin’ Sunday.
“I was young and always getting picked on. I guess I saw it as my chance to hang out with the cool kids,” he admits.
“Do you know how pathetic you’re sounding right now?” Finn laughs at him.
“Of course I know. I’ve always known how pathetic I am.” Greg sighs in relief when I notice how sincere he’s being and I release the grip I have on him.
“I thought what we did was a secret that we’d all take to the grave. The sheriff blamed a couple of college students that were passing through here on some camping trip. He had reports about some rowdy behavior from them so it fitted. There are no bad kids in Fork River.” Greg chuckles and when it causes him pain, he quickly holds his hand to support one of the ribs I’ve probably cracked. “Turns out Mason knew all along about what I did. I guess he was holding on to that secret until he needed me.”
“Sounds like something he’d do.” Finn shrugs at me.
“Mason visited me the day before the dance, he told me exactly what to write on the sign and where I should hang it. How did you know it was me?” Greg suddenly looks curious.
“We’re the ones askin’ the questions here. What you should worry about is which of the kids you made that fire with let him in on your secret. That’s the only way Mason could have known you were involved,” I point out.
